Finding Solace
by Gamecrazy 25
Summary: Sometimes, the force that draws two people together can also grind them painfully. Eventual Matt/Mello, T for depression, suicide attempts, slight language. DN AU.
1. Prologue: Another Night

Gamecrazy's Note: I apologize ahead of time if the characters are OOC, but I can bend the rules a bit if it's an AU, can't I? I own nothing! I'll work hard on this story!

Prologue: Another Night

It's just another night at Wammy's House, which means I'm studying for an upcoming test. I think I've learned this stuff in class down pat already, but it doesn't hurt to refresh, I guess. Who knows--maybe I can finally best Near this time.

Near... How I hate that kid! No matter what I do, how hard I study, he always gets the best of me! Even thinking his name makes my blood boil!

Okay Mello, calm down a little... I'm good.

Hey, it_ is _one of the facts at Wammy's House that Near and I are in a heated rivalry, but he always comes out on top. He's very hard to take seriously as a person, having all the personality and color of a blank piece of paper. Playing with robots, action figures, dice, matchsticks, and who knows what else all the time doesn't help either. He doesn't even give me a second look, not than I want to be anywhere near--ha, puns--that kid; I just might get in a fight that won't look good on my record for being the next L. Does Near even pay attention to our rivalry? I wouldn't count on it. Apparently puzzles are more important.

Anyway, enough about that. I need to focus on studying some more. Shakespeare is really wordy...

...Why does my mind keep wandering? It's been doing that for a while lately... Odd.

Well, I guess I might as well introduce myself. I'm Mello, as you heard a little earlier. I'm sixteen and an orphan at Wammy's House. Wammy's House is this orphanage in England that gathers geniuses for one simple reason: to become the next L. L is the best detective in the world, capable of solving any case in the world. Currently, he's abroad to solve a string of murders, I believe. I idolize him, and that's why I try to outdo Near: so I can take his position as greatest sleuth once L steps down. If it continues like this, then Near will snatch it from me! That will be truly unacceptable!

Back to the subject, Wammy's House is a little different than regular orphanages. The kids taken in are given an alias--a nod to L, who never hands out his name to anyone--to hide their identities once they overtake L. Only the officials here know anyone's real name besides the kids themselves. We are all raised to be like L, and I guess that could seem to be cruel. Where else are we going to go, huh?

No, I'm not going to tell you my real name. It's not important anyway. Mello will suffice.

Let's see, is there anything else? Oh, and I _am_ a member of the male species, despite my girlish appearance. I used to get that a lot when I first arrived here, but now everyone knows not to call me a girl because I just might knock their lights out. Sorry, it just really angers me.

I guess that neat blonde hair a little above my shoulders means I'm a girl? I can't think of anything else that would imply otherwise except the chocolate love--can't a guy be fond of chocolate?--or maybe the extreme emotions. People confuse me sometimes; I'm not _that_ extreme! Maybe I can be if I lose my cool, but really, I don't understand how they came to that conclusion.

I'm not gothic/emo/whatever the term is nowadays either. I wear a black long sleeved shirt and pants because they're comfortable, no other reason meant!

I think that about sums it up for me. Maybe I can finally study now.


	2. Chapter 1: Little Voice

Gamecrazy's Note: I still own nothing! Mello and Matt belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata! I'm glad people are enjoying this story!

Chapter 1: Little Voice

Mornings at Wammy's House aren't exciting.

The routine every day is that after you've woken up all the way, you march to the cafeteria for breakfast and eat until it's time to go to your first class. Today wasn't any different.

I took a seat at one of the long, dark brown wooden tables the founder of Wammy's House had installed in the cafeteria, placing my tray of eggs, toast, and milk in front of me and my simple bag with supplies on the tile floor. I picked up my fork and placed some of the scrambled eggs in my mouth, chewing them slowly.

Typical breakfast, typical day. Nothing has changed. I sighed and ate some more to try and drive my thoughts away, just for a little while. I just didn't want to think--my mind drifts off too much lately and I'm a little tired of it.

Someone laughed from down the room, and it was followed by a jumbled mess of chatter, no-ways and oh-no-they-didn't-s. The noise came from a group of kids around my age, but I couldn't think of their names right off hand. Maybe it didn't matter who they were.

"Then, you'll never guess what happened!" A brown haired boy grinned, his eyes glittering with delight. He had both of his fists on the table, ignoring his breakfast for the time being.

"What? What happened next?" A girl with long black hair had leaned closer to absorb this information like a plant does sunshine.

"Oh man, wait until you hear this! Sam, he..."

I tuned out their voices quickly like hitting the mute button on a TV remote. What was _wrong_ with me? Those kids weren't talking about anything that involved me in any shape or form, so why...

Why was I getting choked up?

The bits of egg and half a slice of toast suddenly seemed like putrid sewage slime to me so I pushed away the tray with a shaking hand. They were yakking about something exciting, never mentioning the name Mello at all. That happy flock of penguins huddled together and chirping incessantly...

I trembled all over, and it took most of my willpower to hold in tears. I couldn't cry in the middle of breakfast in front of all these people! Near was probably lurking about somewhere too, and to let my emotions go right now would probably make me the laughing stock of Wammy's House!

I just couldn't understand why my body had sunk in turmoil and my soul felt like it was breaking apart in my hands. Those people... just friends talking the morning away. I hadn't cried about it before, so why now?

I glanced to my left. No one there. Nobody sat on my right either. That meant not a single person would let me sob into their shoulder because no one was _there_. No one sat at my table but me, myself, and I.

The group had rooted in a place far away from me, never noticing my positive signs for a breakdown. They revolved around Sam and what he did that was so great; Mello wasn't a part of their circle.

I wrung my hands fiercely in my lap, not feeling the rubbing of my fingers burning my skin. It was all I could do to hold the tears that threatened to spill any second now inside my eyes where they belonged.

No, no one noticed me. No one thought, _Hey, what's up with Mello?_

I was about to cry because I'd just realized after five years of living here, that I was completely, utterly _alone_.

Yeah... I had no friends. I hated my only rival. Everybody else was happy in their little worlds, not really giving me a second thought except _Wow, Mello's really smart! I want to be like him someday!_

I wouldn't be one to burst their perfect little bubbles, let someone else do it. I never had a meaningful conversation with anyone here. All of my friends I had before were lost in the wind, gone just like my parents. I wouldn't see them again as long as I remained here.

I guess that little voice in my mind finally spoke up, the one who knew I was lonely all this time. Great day to finally say something, wasn't it?

I managed to stand on wobbly Jell-O legs to throw my unappetizing breakfast out in the trash. I staggered back to my seat, still trying to rein in my emotions. Once class started, people might notice my demeanor and that wouldn't do for my image. Kids know me to be an intelligent, helpful, only-angry-when-loses-cool guy, not a crybaby who had a delayed reaction in his miserable corner of life—that is, if anyone noticed me at all.

That's right... No one cared about me. No one was my friend. I found it hard to believe my heart could pang this much.

When it was time to go to class, I was more than ready to bury my sorrows in words and paper.

My classes flew by like papers scattered in the air. I had shoved my tears down as far as they could go and worked furiously to attempt forgetting this horrid eating feeling in my stomach. That sensation knew I was lonely all along and now that I found out, it constantly gnawed in the corner of my mind, tormenting me. Delayed reactions were potent.

I forced myself focus on the words my pencil scratched, the lessons my teachers talked about, the print in the textbooks. If I hadn't, I would've broken down for sure because my mind wandered too much on the whole depressing subject.

God, this _sucked_. I didn't know how long I could keep this gobbling loneliness tamed within its cage without telling someone, but there was no one to tell. Keeping up the facade of the second most intelligent orphan with a hatred towards Near and a fondness for chocolate would be hard if I didn't do anything.

Maybe I _am_ a little extreme in emotions.

* * *

Classes were over for today, and dinner had just finished. I walked back to my room, my bag over my shoulder. Even my footsteps sounded lonely on the wooden floors of the hallway, echoing endlessly and unaccompanied by other's stomping as they rushed to their rooms after a game of soccer or the like.

Had I been so caught up in my one-sided rivalry with Near that I hadn't seen I was friendless? Was I so concerned about the highest grades that I neglected other's company? Did I just disregard making comrades?

I could have burst into tears in the hall, only the paintings, walls, and carpets ever hearing me. I didn't.

I swiftly escaped into the cavern of my room, my personal space. Locking the door, I dropped my bag on the floor and plunged onto my desk chair, the dam busting into pieces before I knew it. I couldn't care at the moment if anyone heard me because I _needed_ to cry. It wouldn't make my situation any better but everyone needs a good cry once in a while and all day I'd been holding back.

If I was ignorant, I would have thought my loneliness would leak out with my tears. No, only someone else who cared about me would even being to remedy this affliction.

I didn't know of anyone who I could bother placing 'potential friend' beside. It seemed that everyone was friends with everyone else, hanging out in groups and laughing. The only exception I could think of was Near but I wouldn't hold a regular conversation with him if my life depended on it. I had too much resentment towards him.

That left no one.

I was alone.

I hastily mopped at the leftover tears on my face--wetting my shirt cuffs--and stared absently down at a blank piece of paper left on my desk. Maybe writing something down would do me good...

I considered scribbling down my feelings, but I think that would make me feel even worse. I had perked up a bit--only a little, hardly noticeable--after my sobbing attack but it was just a temporary fix. Crying every day wouldn't uphold my image at all because people would notice my red, bloodshot eyes if they took a second look at me but if worst came to worst...

My mind suddenly struck inspiration: suicide.

Wait, _what_?! Why would I kill myself over something so petty? Sure, I had no friends here but that didn't mean I'd have to dash my hopes and dreams along with my life!

…Could I?

I hate that little voice. I really do.


	3. Chapter 2: Button

Chapter 2: Button

Gamecrazy's Note: I still own nothing!

I woke up in the morning and got ready during my daily routine. Due to my new outlook on life, it seemed more boring than usual—talk about waking up and smelling the coffee…

The suggestion for suicide flittered around in my mind despite my vow to not do it. I didn't want to have anything to do with it, but...

Was I lonely enough to actually do it? I know I had nobody to share feelings with, but there was hope in the horizon!

I think.

I gathered my bag and went out to the cafeteria despite me not feeling that hungry. I might as well keep up my energy, but for what purpose? I just needed to walk around to my classes and occasionally outside to catch some sun and being more alone watching everyone play but me...

I shook off my thoughts for the hundredth time already and prepared to eat my slice of toast. It didn't even look partially appetizing but oh well, it was food.

Suicide. I swear, it was like someone pressed a button in my head to allow it entrance though I didn't want it to be anywhere in my mind. I mentally sighed and decided that I might as well think about it since there was no stop in its progress. Better than focusing on stupid toast.

Question: why would I want to commit suicide?

I was lonely, duh. Not to say I couldn't make friends, but all of the other kids were already in happy groups. I would experience being a third wheel if I just sat on someone else's table and waited for conversation. I thought people would love to be in the same breathing area of the Great Mello. Then again, some people might think that I was too "high class" to associate with others. Okay, I admit that in the past five years I concentrated on schoolwork and my pitiful rivalry with Near, not giving my classmates more than a "good morning" or "excuse me." I probably deserved no friends with that attitude.

Another question: what would I have to lose if I commit suicide?

I would forfeit my right to be the next L but with Near's superior grades, he was more likely to become a great detective than I was. If there was anything worthwhile in my life left I would give up that as well--not that I saw anything great in the near future. On the other hand, if I didn't kill myself and did something momentous, it wasn't like friends would pop up from the framework and congratulate me. Not really stupendous, is it?

Last question for now: would anyone _care_ if I was suddenly gone?

No. Maybe the teachers and students who looked up to me would spare me an iota of grief for my passing but ultimately I would be reduced to, "Oh, remember Mello? He was the second best student here once... It was a pity he went, but anyway..."

Tears for me? Something more than burial flowers? A person who honestly cared for me?

I didn't expect any--

My thoughts were suddenly cut by a noise.

I glanced up to find the source of the distraction and almost pinched myself to double check I wasn't dreaming.

Someone was actually sitting across from me besides air. The sound was a guy around my age putting down a tray.

I racked my brain to place his face but failed. No one I'd ever seen wore orange goggles or a white and black striped shirt. Red--or maybe maroon--hair would have stuck out in my memory. Wearing black gloves inside would be a personality quirk I'd save in my recollection. The fact that a person could be almost a sickly pale was memorable. The only reasonable conclusion would be that the guy was new here.

He nibbled at a piece of egg before reaching into a bag by the wooden seat and pulling out a DS. I didn't know the officials at Wammy's House allowed them.

Maybe this guy was my last hope. He was a brand new face, one unbound by friendship like I was. To tell the truth, I felt a little scared about talking to him because I had no idea of how his mannerisms were or anything. I swallowed to gather my courage and put forth words from my lips.

"Um... hi."

At first the guy didn't respond, absorbed in his video game. My emotions loomed closer to being dampened but then he replied, "Hi."

If first impressions meant anything, he didn't seem eager to start a conversation with me at all. Still, I needed a friend, so I continued the exchange. "Are you new here?"

The light from the screen reflected in his goggles, preventing me from seeing any emotion in his eyes. "Yeah."

"I'm Mello. It's nice to meet you." I extended my hand across the vast table area seeming to stretch on forever.

The guy paused his game, staring at my hand like it was a foreign object. After a slight hesitation, he shook it. "Matt."

A couple good shakes passed between us before Matt slipped his hand back as if I was charged with electricity. I was momentarily confused at the quick withdrawal but decided to ignore it for now.

Matt resumed his game, tinny music emitting from the speakers. He ate a little more, seeming to not have much of an interest of talking with me anymore.

Matt was definitely the oddest person I'd ever met. The clipped incomplete sentences, the robotic monotone, and the strange way of social contact just didn't add up correctly. As philosophers said, nothing worth gaining is gained without effort or something like that.

"I didn't know they allowed video games at Wammy's House," I started, wanting to attempt some kind of conversation for my sake.

"Long as my grades don't drop," Matt replied, tapping a button on his navy DS.

"That sounds reasonable. Before I came here, I played video games often though I didn't have many. I like to read more myself." I let out a small chuckle, trying to sound friendlier in an attempt to open the connection.

Matt forked a bit of egg into his mouth. "Okay."

I became somewhat discouraged at this. It was like talking to a brick wall: say a lot, receive just about silence back. Was Matt just focused on his game or was he still tired? I'm a morning person but I do like my sleep at times.

"So, what are you playing?" Talk about a forced conversation.

"Zelda." Matt drew a circle or some other shape on the bottom screen with a gray stylus pen, creating a whirring noise.

"How's it going?"

"Fine."

"Any difficulties?"

"No."

Okay, I ran out of ammo there. Matt really didn't offer any points of interest or question the whole time. I ate the rest of my toast in silence except occasional sound effects from Matt's game.

I really couldn't tell if Matt would become a friend or not. He seemed antisocial or just not wanting to talk at the moment. I had to take what I was handed though, Matt being the only person not connected to anyone else, a probable comrade for me in other words.

The bell finally rang after many stretched-out minutes. I gathered my bag and said to Matt, "See you in class."

The red haired gamer only responded with, "Yeah."

* * *

As I found out, Matt acted pretty much the same in class as well save the video games.

I took my seat at the middle of the rows of desks, only a little to the right of the exact center. Matt sat in the back next to the window, calmly getting out a pencil and a book from his bag. The other students filed in, taking their seats, and I tore my gaze away from Matt to get out my supplies and pay attention to the teacher.

Why did I watch Matt so closely? I wanted to be his friend, and he just happened to be the new guy arriving the day after my realization. Any hint at all that could break his shell would be a godsend.

The teacher rapped on her desk for attention and I cleared my head to focus on the lesson.

* * *

Usually when someone new arrives in a school or somewhere, people flock to him or her and go out of their way to introduce themselves and give out pointers.

The odd thing was no one else even approached Matt. The only thing anyone might have done would be an accidental glimpse. It was weird to me. I knew from experience that it was nigh impossible to have a somewhat normal conversation with Matt but you didn't just assume that people could be very antisocial.

Matt didn't attempt to make any friends. If lessons weren't in order, he read a book or doodled in the margin of his notes. Teachers would take away video games; I guess he was smart enough to realize that. Then again, if you were stupid you wouldn't be in Wammy's House.

I wonder if Matt noticed me staring at him sometimes--you know, sneaking glances every now and then, curious as to what he's going, nothing stalker-y about it. I couldn't tell what he read during free time or the scribble he drew in between a line or two.

...I sound like I'm in love with him or something, damn. You are _not _in love with Matt, Mello! You just met the guy and you want to be his friend to fill your void of loneliness, that's all! Continuing now that has been cleared...

If I wasn't so dead set on becoming his friend, I might have forgotten Matt was even present. The redhead only said something if he was called on and the fewest possible words at that. I discovered Matt could be polite to teachers, attaching a "ma'am" or "sir" to the necessary statement. Majority of the time, however, he sat with his chin propped up by his hand and staring listlessly at whatever happened to be front. I assumed he listened though his expression claimed otherwise.

I just hoped trying to understand what made Matt tick wouldn't drop my grades.


	4. Chapter 3: Fruit

Chapter 3: Fruit

Gamecrazy's Note: Guess what? I own nothing except for the things mentioned in the end note!

* * *

"Good morning, Matt," I greeted as I took my seat, setting down a tray of the usual breakfast of toast and eggs.

"Hey," Matt replied, glancing up momentarily from his book. It laid flat on the table so I couldn't see the title.

"No video games today?"

"Not yet." Matt flipped a page. Without the lighted screens glaring in his orange goggles, I could see more of his eyes. By what I could see, they were brown but I could be wrong considering the tangerine shade shielding them.

"What are you reading?" I asked, hoping that I could get some conversation out of Matt.

"Psyche."

"I've never heard of it. Is it good?"

Matt turned the page again. "Interesting."

So far I had gotten five words out of the other male. Progress was progress. "What's it about?"

"Girl in coma. Seven people enter imaginary world. Arguing. Trying to save girl."

I blinked in surprise. I knew summaries were concise, but that took the cake! Twelve words didn't really explain the interlocking of each character... "That sounds like a good book," I said, trying to make my comment and smile seem not-so-fake, though I wondered if Matt would notice. "My favorite of all would have to be Fine Line. Isn't it by the same author?"

"Maybe." Matt picked at his food, probably focused on reading more than breakfast.

"I know Fine Line isn't the type of book for everyone to read but I pay more attention to the emotional relationships between the characters. It's definitely different." Could you say that Matt and I were different? It wasn't even a full-fledged friendship but more like a fledgling one with a rocky start. "I have a copy if you're interested."

"Okay." No other response from the redhead.

In the far recesses of my mind, I wondered why I bothered talking to Matt. He didn't seem keen about holding a simple conversation with me at all! I might have been angry if he only gave me the basically silent treatment but he treated everyone that way. Then I came to a conclusion.

Idle banter wouldn't win me Matt's friendship. I couldn't coax more than a handful of words out of him at once, the summary of Psyche the most I'd ever heard him say in one response. If I really wished to not be lonely anymore, then I would have to take a direct approach. It would be risky but if I could break his shell...

"Matt, I need to ask you something," I began, my resolve firm. I wasn't going to back down now despite my shaking body.

"Listening." By his tone of voice it didn't seem that way.

"Why are you so quiet? You barely say anything, much less a complete sentence!"

There, it was out in the open. My heart pumped madly in my ears and I gripped the edges of the wooden table so hard that my knuckles turned white. I was nervous because I could lose all hope with that question.

Matt just stared at me, hand propping up his chin in the same pose as in class. No expression crossed his face, not even a shiver of emotion. He only breathed and blinked.

The unsettling thing was that Matt kept his eyes fixed on me like I was a transparent wall and something of interest was on the other side of the room. It seemed like ages passed before he finally asked, "Why?"

"You know... I..."

I don't know why the world became insignificant and dark around us. An imaginary cold stole the warmth from my bones and a sensation like a fish swatted out of a rushing river came over me. For some reason, that one word obliterated any counter argument I had in mind--a passive, flat why, just a single word did that. I felt stupid trying to piece together a sentence without pauses or stammers.

If Matt thought I was an idiot for my reaction he definitely didn't show it, turning back to his book without another whisper.

My extremely intelligent brain couldn't process the situation or why I felt like a popped balloon lying unwanted in the dirt. Why did he ask me that instead of just answering the question? Searching through my head for a response, I stumbled upon possible explanation upon explanation but honestly didn't have an inkling why Matt gave me that response.

Before I could open my mouth to question him further, the bell rang to go to our first class. I cursed the worst timing ever and managed to say, "See you later," to Matt but he only waved, gathered his belongings, and walked off to his class.

I wondered if Matt _really_ wasn't going to talk to me anymore.

* * *

My emotion wheel revolved too quickly these days. First I was regular Mello, just doing school assignments and going pencil to pencil with Near about a rivalry that didn't exist. Then I sunk into depression when I discovered I was the lone person in my life.

Who am I now? Stalker Mello constantly surveying his last candidate for a friend, his last lifeline before he'd consider committing suicide? I... I just wanted to make sure Matt could be someone to invite into my world, that's all. If he isn't worthy then I'll say my farewells to this world.

It was a simple plan but Matt _had_ to be difficult. I can't tell what thoughts swarm around in his head or even what he's feeling at the moment! Matt just sits there staring at the chalkboard, writing notes, doing work, staring out the window, or reading. Everyone else doesn't approach him, ask his name, anything. They treat me like that too, just a smart person named Mello, a passing mention. That's all I was to others.

Matt is an enigma, a puzzle in which the pieces are missing for me. If they remained lost, I might never figure him out and become his friend. No matter how I phrased it, it all lead to a dead end. If I were to be left with scattered bits it would be the end of me, both in body but in memory as well. No one would recall having a simple conversation with me or even taking a worthwhile glance in my direction. I was at fault for that, shifting schoolwork and Near before friends. The thought of me being comrades with anyone hadn't crossed my mind in five years—how pathetic was that?

The teacher smacked his ruler on my desk, startling me from my thoughts. "Mello, please pay attention to this lesson. I know you're second best here but that doesn't compensate for daydreaming!"

"Yes, sir," I stated in apology, my mind rattling from the sudden noise. "I won't do it again."

He nodded. "That's fine. Now continuing on with today…" He returned to the blackboard as if nothing had occurred.

I commenced to scribble down some notes, ready to ease up on the subject of Matt. There was no use worrying about that until I was positive he wasn't the right choice for me.

…I hope that day doesn't come.

* * *

The rest of the day played out like normal until I strode back inside Wammy's House from sitting outside to catch some rays and sink into despair over the fact no one would enjoy my company. It got pretty boring sitting under a leafy tree without a companion to talk with excluding myself. I liked the shade since I wore black all of the time, and that meant I was a heat magnet. Why did I choose black anyway?

My shockingly silly train of thought crashed when I heard jeers from down the hall. I leapt into action to figure out the sudden commotion, only to hide behind a dust painted vase when I spotted who it involved.

Even though Wammy's House only opened to geniuses, that didn't guarantee all of them would be perfect little angels. The majority of the orphans here were well-behaved but a handful had been known to bully others for no reason. There were a few bad apples in every bushel.

Unfortunately, a couple guys and a girl with a wicked expression had chosen Matt as their target. The contents of his bag lay scattered across the floor. I winced upon seeing his DS among the clutter. If my hunch was right, the bullies would go after that like hounds do foxes.

"Hey, fresh meat!" The taller bully interjected, his hands gripping the front of Matt's white and black striped shirt. He gave the redhead a good throttle for emphasis. "I've seen you; no one cares about you! If we bloody your nose no one would give a hoot!"

Matt only stood there as if a guy with a horrible attitude wasn't hovering in his face. The only reaction he gave was a blink, not a noise leaving his mouth.

The shorter male bully sighed. "Hey, this guy's hardcore in silence… Talk about a bummer…"

The girl glanced down at Matt's belongings with intentions of making him talk with a threat to a personal thing. I was right; she bent down to retrieve the DS.

"Oh, look what I found, goggle-boy!" The girl chirped, striding closer to Matt as if she owned the orphanage. "It's your DS! You don't want anything to happen to it, do you?" She stuck out her tongue as if to savor the nonexistent fear emitting from Matt and seductively opened the video game system, displaying two blank gray screens.

"Video games, eh?" The tall bully had turned his head to see what the girl was talking about but now he had his whole attention on Matt again. "So you're a geek, huh? You know what they say about geeks… they're gay freaks who beg to not be hurt!"

I frowned at this insult. How dare they talk to Matt that way! I was concerned but why didn't I move?

"Let's see how you handle, orange-eyed geek!" With that the bully in charge slammed a muscular fist into Matt's left cheek, causing me to flinch as if I had been struck. Matt gave no notion he had even been punched except for the jerk of his head at the moment of it, keeping a blank face. It almost spooked me to find a person so utterly unaffected by anything, even pain or threats.

That reply apparently didn't satisfy the trio of troublemakers, the main assaulter shaking Matt with a tiger-like growl. "C'mon, geek! Don't you care about your precious game? We'll break it if you don't cry!" He did it again. "C'mon, do _something_, stupid!"

Matt didn't obey, still blinking and breathing as normal. Had he even heard the threat?

The shorter male released another sigh. "C'mon, let's go. This guy's no fun…"

The girl sniffed in disgust, dropping the DS unceremoniously on the floor with the rest of the items. She sauntered off with her buddies, Matt being shoved against the wall as a reminder. He again showed nothing and bent over to retrieve everything into his bag.

I felt a little terrible about just watching that scene, not helping out Matt at all. I hadn't moved because he seemed to have it all under control, but was that the preferred way of dealing with things?

"Hey, umm... Matt!" I almost chickened out on getting the redhead's attention, not feeling worthy after witnessing and not motioning to assist. I stepped out from behind the vase.

Matt glanced up from the floor, his hand midway to picking up a pencil. "Oh."

"I... I saw what happened." I swallowed nervously. Would he scold me for just standing there? "And... And I'm sorry for not helping you."

Matt stood, shrugging his shoulders and making eye contact with me. "Okay."

Again I felt discouraged at his response. I was grateful for him not being angry with me but was that all he had to say? "Uh... you know where the clinic is, right? I could escort you if you don't." That bruise had turned into a garish purple-black color, lighting a small fire of revulsion in my stomach.

Matt put his bag on his shoulders. "Don't."

In this moment, I fully realized how little of him I understood. "W-Why?" I sputtered.

"It'll heal," Matt responded simply, turning to leave.

"W-Wait, Matt!" I cried, reaching out my hand to grasp his shoulder. He swiveled his head slowly to face me, emotionless as always. "Why? Why do you do things? I don't understand you!" My voice rose without me being totally aware of it. "Do you swat at the hand that offers help?" If I hadn't already been staring him down I would have now. "Why, Matt?"

At first, Matt didn't seem like he heard my question, just staring blankly ahead. "No pain."

"That's not the point!" I shouted. "What does it matter if it hurts or not? I'm offering to help you and you refused me!" Dropping my voice I said, "I just want to understand how you operate Matt, don't get me wrong. I want us to be friends." I managed a small smile to cement my point.

Matt shocked me by shaking his head and removing my hand. "Apples and oranges," he mumbled, and began to walk down the hallway.

"Why, Matt!" I yelled, not caring if Roger or whoever heard me; it's not like they cared in the first place. "You don't know me and I don't know you! How can you be so sure we can't be friends when we've only known each other for two days?" This whole ordeal was draining my energy, both physical from shouting and mental from how Matt acted.

Matt gazed at me again in that way of his: passive and uncaring. He grabbed his goggles and pushed them to his forehead, giving me a clear view of his eyes for the first time. I had been wrong on the color as I suspected: a beautiful jade was nowhere near a humble brown. The green was dark enough to not give an unsettling vibe but I felt horrified at how hideously _empty_ they were. I had never seen something so devoid of emotion...

I finally pieced it together. _All_ of Matt was empty, not just his eyes; they were just windows to the soul. To confirm my shocking revelation he stated plainly, "I'm nothing."

"I... I..." I didn't know what to say. In all of my sixteen years of life, never had I experienced someone like Matt. I didn't know how to handle this situation! Did Matt even _want_ to be my friend? Fear swarmed in my system once I thought that. I can't be alone anymore! If I were, I'll kill myself without another thought!

Matt began to walk away again, not waiting for a response from me. I pushed against the glob in my throat to say something, _anything_ to stop him before it was just me in my own little world again--if Matt had ever been a part of it.

"Matt..." I croaked, fighting the blockage the best of my ability. I couldn't believe he heard me. "I... I just want to be your friend. Is that too much to ask?"

The red haired gamer halted moving for the third time, not speaking. His back was in my direction but I hoped he was listening for what I was about to say.

"If... If you want to know why I'm so desperate, it's because I'm lonely!" The beginning of the confession wrenched my heart making me faintly nauseous. The feelings had overwhelmed me since the day I realized them, mounting upon each other like an unstable tower of building blocks. I hadn't wanted to cry but I started to anyway. "Everyone else has friends but me! I was so focused on everything else for the past five years than it never occurred to me to make friends and it's too late now!" I raised a hand to dab at the freefalling tears. God, I felt _awful_ but it needed to be said for my well-being. "You're new here, Matt! You're not bound to anyone else! I thought I could become friends with you because I can't stand being _this damn lonely_!" I buried my face in my shirt sleeves, sobbing beyond my control. "You don't know how crucial this is to me, Matt! If I spend one more minute alone I'll--I'll commit suicide! You can only stop me if you become my friend! I know I sound controlling but I spent a good portion of my life being ignorant to people! I... I..." My voice dissolved into sniffles and wails, not having the correct emotions to say another word. My heart was tearing into pieces gradually by hands that relished my obvious pain. Simply put, I was an emotional wreck.

Being hidden by my tears and hands, I couldn't see Matt's expression. The only response I received was, "Okay."

"T-Thank you, Matt..." I blubbered, suddenly conscious of how I appeared to him. I scrubbed madly at my tears, trying to smash a lid on my crying. "You... you don't know how much this means to me..."

I felt a hand clasp my shoulder loosely, Matt keeping his distance. It didn't offer much comfort if any but it was better than nothing at all. "Clinic," he said to get us to move.

"Sure!" I mopped whatever dampness still lingering on my face and led the way, feeling like a light had finally flittered into my dark tunnel.

Matt and I as friends... I hoped with all of my heart it could work.

* * *

Gamecrazy's End Note: Psyche is an original story by me if you were curious. Fine Line is on here if you want to know what happens exactly. The thing Mello mentioned will be basically the same story in a novel form. I don't own Fine Line either! You can also check out Subconscious Oceans if you want a deeper analysis of Fine Line.


	5. Chapter 4: Race

Chapter 4: Race

Gamecrazy's Note: looks around Nope, don't see anything that says I own anything! I guess I own nothing!

* * *

Two weeks passed and my mood had definitely perked. I was happier knowing Matt had agreed to become friends with me. In my world there were two people now.

Matt hadn't changed. He still delivered his choppy responses in a monotone, keeping his goggles on to shield his eyes. He played his video games and read books. I wanted to know more about Matt, but I didn't want to pressure him or be an annoyance. If I made a wrong move I felt like I could lose him as fast as if I had never had his company. It would be the end of me if that happened.

Matt and I sat at lunch, our classes over for the day. Lunch took place after the scheduled four classes and after that, the rest of the day we were free to do whatever as long as it was deemed acceptable by the rules. I took a bite out of my sandwich, Matt not bringing up any topics while he nibbled on a slice of pizza as he thumbed to the next page in his novel. I hadn't heard of the book but didn't feel like questioning the content.

"Well, Matt? Do you want to do anything special today?" I queried, swallowing my food before opening my mouth. Manners were important after all.

"Mm," the redhead replied, munching his lunch as if in boredom.

"I take that as a not really," I joked, offering him a small grin despite his grounded stare. "It might rain today so going outside is out of the question... There isn't much to do out there anyway. Do you have any ideas?"

"No." Matt stood to throw away his lunch, returning to his seat hastily. He focused his attention on the reading material yet again.

"We'll figure out something," I stated in a hopeful tone. "After I finish my sandwich, do you want to go to my room or something?"

"Whatever." Matt bookmarked the page and put the book away, probably waiting for me.

"Now that I think about it, what can we do in my room?" I mused, attempting to finish my food faster. "I have books but that's mostly it for entertainment." An idea suddenly struck me. "You have video games, Matt. How about we play one? I hope it doesn't rain while we're playing but we can always stop, right?"

"Yeah," Matt agreed in his robotic tone as always.

After I had eaten, I gathered my bag and said to my red haired friend, "Let's go."

Matt got to his feet and placed his backpack over his shoulders, leading the way to his room. I followed him despite having a good idea of where his lodging was located: somewhere on the opposite side of the hall from mine. I didn't want to seem pushy or a know-it-all and what if I had gotten it wrong? I shook my head to clear those thoughts, Matt not sparing a glance at my motion, keeping his eyes glued ahead. We arrived at a door soon enough, the gamer clicking it open without a word. The two of us walked inside, Matt dropping his bag on the bed and entering the bathroom.

While he was occupied I took the chance to glance around the room. I felt a pinch of nervousness, never being in Matt's room until now. Several game consoles lay hooked up to an average TV coated with the thinnest layer of dust, a tangle of jet black cords like snakes attached behind the stand holding the electronic. Matt had the blinds and curtains drawn on the lone window, covering any sign of the outdoors. His bed could use tidying, the sheets crumpled all over the place and the pillow halfway down the mattress. A painting of a forest hung above the TV, something all of the rooms in Wammy's House had in some shape or form. The shelf below the window held video games and a few scattered books. All in all, this was a pretty typical room. What was I expecting, rock posters plastered on the walls or a secret stash of dirty magazines? Matt didn't seem the type of person to own those types of things.

He returned from the restroom and sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the shelf. "Choose."

"Oh, right..." I couldn't help but to chuckle nervously. I crouched down next to him, scanning the library of games. There were plenty of titles to pick, mostly popular franchises. My brain slightly spun from the lack of knowledge for these things; it had been five years ago after all. Five lonely years... I shooed away those thoughts to focus on the current situation. Matt waited patiently, his hands laying on his jean-clad legs and staring at the ceiling for no particular reason. Turning my eyes back to the games, I decided that among the two-player ones, racing would probably be the easiest since my skills were rusty. It didn't involve fancy button combos to finish your opponent in a bloody heap or sports rules I didn't care about much. I withdrew a cartoon-like racer from the shelf. "This looks interesting."

"Mariokart," Matt said, glancing in my direction with those empty eyes of his. "Sure?"

"Yeah." I gave him a small smile of mine. I tried my best to get him to open up to me or else it was a forced friendship. I really hoped our relationship could be that level. "I can recognize some of the characters."

Matt nodded and I handed him the Mariokart game. He snapped out the disc and placed it inside a silver Gamecube, handing me a controller after I sat down in front of the TV. "Know the rules?"

"Umm... no."

He grabbed his own controller and scooted next to me on my left. "A accelerates. B brakes and reverses. Y and X are items. Z switches characters. L and R drift. Control stick steers. Start pauses."

Again, I mentally applauded Matt on such a concise summary, but it was the most conversation I had ever coaxed from his mouth even if it was just a simple explanation. "It seems simple enough. Let's go."

He reached over to turn on the Gamecube and we waited through the opening credits to the start menu. Matt set us on the simplest mode and then we had to choose which racers we wanted. He selected the mushroom boy Toad and a stringy guy dressed in purple and black I didn't quite remember. I thumbed over to choose Mario and Luigi, the two characters I felt most comfortable with since I was more familiar with them. Once we arrived at the cup choices Matt averted his gaze to me. "Pick."

"Well, which one is for beginners?" I momentarily shivered at how monotone he always was, both in his speech and demeanor. Would I ever see Matt change his expression in the tiniest amount?

"Mushroom," he answered, the cursor already on it. "Easiest."

"Sounds good," I agreed, taking a deep breath to start my concentration. I didn't figure that I would win the first go around but I hoped to at least get a decent ranking. Matt confirmed the selection and we were given a swift overview of the track, a road shaped somewhat like an eight with what resembled a live, monstrous iron ball on a chain that snapped out frequently. There was a name for them but I couldn't recall--it was trivial in the current mood anyway.

The minutes passed by in a blur. I felt pumped at playing a video game with Matt, taking it as a step in the right direction of friendship. The race itself stirred excitement within me too. Sometimes I cried, "Hey, he/she/they passed me!" or "I have a Red Shell, fear me!" It caused me to feel the barest hints of giddiness, the fact that I could act this way over entertainment. I only wished that Matt could feel the same.

He hadn't switched his attitude at all ever since the first green light flashed. Remaining cool as a cucumber, Matt applied his experience and skills to leave the computerized opponents and me in the dust within a matter of moments. I managed to steal a glimpse or two at the map and would usually discover him being too far of a distance from everyone else to ever wish to steal first place from under his feet. This was child's play to him, me definitely being outclassed. Matt never twitched if a banana slid into his path or a spiked blue shell hurled his racers into the air in an explosion.

Eventually the four tracks were finished and the trophies were handed to the characters. Matt took away first place obviously and I had worked hard to earn third. Bronze wasn't so bad in video games but in real life, it didn't get you very far. I sighed gratefully, my extreme emotions gradually cooling. "That was really fun, Matt. I'd like to try it again sometime."

The redhead switched off the Gamecube and began to wind the controllers' cords for easy storage, not commenting.

A distant boom of thunder sounded. "Oh," I started, "I guess we got done just in time. Rain could be approaching."

Again Matt didn't say a word, continuing to pack away his gaming supplies.

"You know, we could use some rain." I tried to attempt a conversation, but I didn't know if I had enough ideas for me to believe I wasn't chatting with myself. "The flower beds would appreciate it."

I still received no response. "Matt?" I questioned, concern bubbling in my stomach. "Are you okay?"

Matt didn't even turn his head to me to show he listened to my words. Instead, he got to his feet and stood, hands hooked partly in his pockets, near the other side of the room where a blank wall remained the only attraction. Matt's stare was grounded on the wooden floors.

"...Matt. Are you even listening?"

I didn't care to be ignored. I could tolerate it among others but not Matt, not the guy I wanted to be my friend. I walked over to his statuary position, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Matt, I want you to pay attention to me. I don't like people I want to be close with to ignore me when I'm worried. If there's something you want to talk about, go ahead and say it to me. We won't become best friends if we don't share our secrets." I squeezed his shoulder lightly to show than I cared.

Matt finally swiveled his head towards me, staring with his blank jade eyes. He didn't respond to my question, just meeting my stern gaze in that detached way of his.

"I don't understand, Matt," I continued in a quiet voice. "I thought we were getting along well. Sure, it's only been a couple weeks, but I thought we were making progress. Why are you clamming up now?"

Matt continued to not hand me any answers, his look never changing. I opened my mouth to try and pry out his silence but then my stomach began to roll into countless knots. The last time we were ever this near to each other was during my confrontation with him after the bullying, but I was being put through the emotional wringer too much to notice how... _close_ Matt was to me.

I struggled to stop myself from blushing. I didn't have any romantic feelings towards Matt at all--heck, we've only known each other for a little over two weeks--but this felt like an invasion of personal space. Then again, maybe it was the fact that he was close enough to kiss me made me notice that he was still so far away from my understanding. I would never be able to comprehend him if Matt never spoke a word about his past. What made him tick?

Despite my fierce battle with my feelings, I began to experience an anxious sensation in my stomach. I... I didn't _like_ being this close! Matt appeared not to realize my growing torment, his examination burning a hole right through me. My heart thudded faster in my chest and I wanted to escape to a bathroom where I might lose my halfway digested lunch. All of my body shook on overdrive, agitation zipping through my systems. My hand on Matt's shoulder turned to ice--I wanted to _let go_ and yet I was rooted to the spot. An army fleet wouldn't make me budge. I felt like moving everywhere yet no place at all. My pulse raced beyond my control and time crawled by, the seconds taking a slow pace to tumble from the cliff hovering over the abyss.

Matt saved me from embarrassment by plucking my arm free and heading into the bathroom, the lock clicking. I remained stranded in the seemingly vast bedroom, my hands limp by my side. I couldn't move. My mind buzzed from overload of emotion, the world spinning around in a tornado. I felt extremely nauseous, my body barely able to stand.

Matt... Why? I reeled, almost catapulting to the floor. This uncontrollable roulette of feelings maximized its power and threw it at me full-throttle. My knees gave out and I collapsed, not aware of the carpet and wood beneath me and sensations twisting my stomach into a thin line. The surroundings blurred and numbness crept over me like frost. My thoughts contained only one person: Matt. Why had he become so standoffish now? If he really didn't want to be my friend, then why break me a couple weeks later? Matt didn't seem to be the heartless type... I hoped he wasn't.

Matt...

The room suddenly blinked out like a light bulb.


	6. Chapter 5: Spiral

Chapter 5: Spiral

Gamecrazy's Note: I own nothing! Oh, there's some language in this chap!

* * *

I still wasn't exactly comfortable around Matt, not after I fainted like some love struck girl. By the time I came to, the rain had halted. I was a little angry at Matt, both for not waking me and for handing me the silent treatment--not that he talked to me much in the first place, unfortunately. Somehow, the thought of holding a minor grudge against him seemed criminal for my well-being. I tried not to be mad with Matt, but my emotions betrayed me several times.

I felt frustrated, I guess. I could poke and pry all I wanted and still receive nothing from the redhead. He was a diary with a lock I couldn't open with my weak pick. I needed some kind of material, a type of metal to forge my utensil with so I could successfully see the written pages. Since Matt had stopped talking with me, my search wound in circles. Was there anything that could open him to where I could understand?

I wasn't foolish enough to interrogate Matt at the moment. I would receive only silence and that would do nothing for me. Considering Matt, I probably wouldn't get any sort of reply even if he didn't become suddenly quiet, or at least one that made sense.

Fall would be here in a few days. It was my favorite season. I loved inhaling the crisp breeze just on the cusp of freezing and the crunch of leaves beneath my boots. I even helped to rake leaves on the Wammy's House field. It gave me a better reputation than if I sat around and did nothing, and it let me enjoy the season.

A sudden thought struck me: was I concerned about Near and L now? Had I made Matt becoming my friend the top priority without realizing it? A resurgence of old emotions tumbled into my brain--disgust for the white haired kid who always bested me, an unwavering determination to beat Near, and holy admiration for the detective I aspired to be someday. I still strived hard with my grades to reach my goals, but none of those feelings quite touched me as they would have previously. A rift had opened in my heart, Matt a barrier between my abyss-like depression and the dreams I worked for but to almost no avail.

Matt was really important to me, I guess. Giving my head a slight shake, I frowned at the structure of that sentence. It didn't sound quite right...

Matt _was_ really important to me.

That fared much better. Of course he would be such a high figure in my life; I would kill myself if I was all alone. The thing was, could Matt be an idol like L or possibly an obstacle like Near?

Needless to say, it was a troubling thought. I put down my pencil and turned my mind away from my homework. Matt, someone in my way? I shuddered to place him on the same shelf as Near. His personality was the only thing blocking my path to friendship, not Matt himself! No, I didn't need to compete with him over the highest spot of anything!

Matt... Near...

My previous argument shattered into fragments. Matt--he _was_ in my way! I only wanted to be his friend and yet he skirted around my advances by showing nothing at all and handing me insignificant responses! I clenched my fist, my fingernails biting crescent moons into my palm. I struggled to retain my spitfire temper; if I blew a fuse I probably wouldn't forgive Matt for the rest of my life! He wasn't the type of person to beg on his knees for an apology and most likely wouldn't be concerned in the least.

Just like Near...

Just like stupid _Near_!

My hatred for my rival surged through my veins as I vainly attempted to clamp a lid on my tumult of emotions. I hadn't felt this pissed in a _long_ time... The last incident, I recalled, was when I had spent the whole week studying for a major test but Near shot down my efforts for the hundredth time with one of his childish cork guns by succeeding me. I had flung myself at the sheep boy and a fight would have broken out if the teacher hadn't called Roger and other authorities to restrain me. I hadn't had exact control of my body except to shout insults and hurl punches. I was dragged to the office and given a stern lecture I tuned out with a deep scowl.

Near was known to be an extremely neutral person, twirling a lock of hair as he explained an answer to the class in a monotone. I don't remember seeing a single expression cross his lips once.

Matt and Near... two peas in a pod. Both were utterly passive, mostly silent, and I held anger towards the two that wouldn't be alleviated with a snap of the fingers. If I struck either one, neither would squeal.

Both were _in my way_.

My growl resembled a mad dog's in sound as my nails cut deeper into my hand. My thoughts filled with black matter: dislike, frustration, hopelessness, inferiority...

I wouldn't settle for second place--it meant nothing at all in the world. Congratulations, you received a silver medal and squat to go along with it! It cleared the way for no recognition, a backseat to be L, and not even an acquaintance. Second place and I combined meant _losing_. In a video game it might be acceptable but definitely not now.

_I hope you suddenly feel the heat, Matt..._ I thought darkly, my breathing becoming labored. _I'm not going to play Mr. Nice Guy anymore. I've _had_ it with your lack of emotion and brick wall ruse. Tomorrow, I'll stab you with my wrath. _My lips curled into a cunning smirk. _Let's see if you can feel _that.

* * *

It was breakfast time in the cafeteria as usual but food was the last thing on my list of concerns. I fidgeted anxiously, my hands forming fists, dropping the shape, and molding into it again. The curved slices embedded in my palms from my fingernails didn't sting at all in my current frame of mind. I waited for Matt to appear like a cat crouches outside of a mouse hole.

I wanted the redhead to gaze upon me startled, cringe in fright, back away from me. I needed to see him _react_--something that was human instead of robot. I didn't care if I injured him; Matt's well being wasn't something I cared about at the moment.

_If you weren't such a shell, you wouldn't have pushed me this far..._

Finally, my target surfaced in my range of attack, holding a tray of breakfast and his bag. I pounced when Matt attempted to sit, hooking my hands on the front of his shirt.

"I've _had_ it with you, Matt," I hissed, my teeth grinding into each other. "I can't pry anything out of you, can I? You're too secretive and uncaring about others to even give them a thought!" The words tumbled out of my mouth in a spew. Some other orphans gasped at the sight, utensils clattering on the table. "No wonder no one approaches you!"

Matt didn't make a single motion I wanted, staring me in the face with those pits of emptiness called eyes. Even with his goggles I could tell he didn't care. I continued my tirade, this time turning up the heat.

"You _disgust_ me, Matt! You think your shit doesn't stink, don't you?" I smirked, my hatred growing all the while. "I see you now: you're just an obstacle in my way! I don't care _what_ happens to you! See if I show up at your funeral!" I throttled Matt. "Car wreck, coma, murder--see if _I_ care! You'll never receive sympathy from _me_!"

The redhead opened his mouth to say something, my twisted grin growing a hair wider. Finally, he was going to react...

"Liar."

The floor broke away beneath me at that statement, a wimpy gasp escaping from my mouth. I still held tight onto Matt's shirt, the guy never changing his expression at all. My mind previously clouded by rage suddenly received a blast of ice, numbly grasping what just happened.

What... what did he just say?

My expression must have crumbled because Matt retaliated with, "False."

I mulled over the idea of freeing him. Was he right? Did Matt have a point? I mentally shook my head fiercely. No, Matt was a blockage in my path! He was just like Near! Stupid, toy-loving, passive _Near_! My vision sparked with fury again as any chains binding me snapped. Without any judgment to stop me I punched Matt as hard as I could.

I barely had time to relish him smacking against the floor before Wammy's House officials clutched onto my arms, me shouting in surprise and flailing my legs so they would release me. I managed to yell to the fallen Matt as they dragged me to the office, "See what you made me do? Like I said, no more from me!"

The gamer had gotten to his feet, a bruise developing in the same spot as the bully's had. Matt shrugged at me before being led away by the nurse.

* * *

Roger glared at me over his clasped hands, tiny glasses reflecting meager light from the window. He heaved a sigh. "Mello, I thought you had enough sense to stop fighting with people. You've been well behaved lately, but why are you suddenly causing trouble again? New kids aren't there for you to pick on."

I snorted, crossing my arms. "He started it."

"Matt's not a problem child. What did he do?" Roger wasn't fond of kids, I knew. Why he bothered to assist at an orphanage full of them is beyond me. His tone of voice suggested a quick solution to this ordeal so he could get back to other business.

"Nothing, that's what!"

As soon as I said that my body was seized by a sensation of extreme shock and my eyes widened.

Oh god... What had I done? I held hatred towards Near, not Matt! He may have the same demeanor as my rival but I wanted to be friends with Matt, a far cry from my unpleasant feelings for Near. I balled the hand that had punched my hopefully friend, wishing to wind back time so it never happened. If I shot down my only hope at salvation, it could only be my fault. If it all went down the drain like this, I really _should_ kill myself for even thinking about doing such a thing!

Regret _sucked_.

"I sincerely hope you've learned your lesson, Mello. I thought scuffles with Near were enough," Roger drawled just because it was his job.

I simply nodded, a nauseous feeling developing in my stomach. I had struck someone important to me, how stupid was that? I marked it as the dumbest thing I'd ever done.

* * *

Classes were over for the day and I attempted not to glance at Matt once, but it was a bad habit I developed. I caught myself catching glimpses a handful of times and from what I had seen out of the corner of my eye, he didn't seem to be angry towards me. True, I never saw Matt react to anything without a blank face, but I couldn't read his mind. It had been difficult for me to watch him like a hawk, the guy I desperately wanted to be my friend I had undeservingly slugged.

Now I had two valid reasons for being anxious around Matt: one because I fainted in his room and two the fact I had hit him when I wasn't mad at _him_. I trudged to my bedroom, musing over this spinning situation in my head. My emotions twirled out of my hands at times before I could rein them back. When I busted loose in a fit of anger, hell had to pay. I just wish I hadn't taken it out on _Matt_...

I grumbled in frustration, halting my walk to bury my head in my hands. I didn't know how I could patch up this problem! I couldn't just say "Hi, sorry about that but we're friends again, right?" If I did that, it would feel plastic and Matt might not accept my apology if I didn't believe it to be sincere sounding. If I could pose an answer to this whole thing I would have, but I didn't have a single hint.

I freed my face and resumed heading to my bedroom to take a shower or something. Maybe some cold water would spring an idea... I hastened my pace--only to glance up and spot Matt standing in the hallway, looking very out of place.

"Uh..." I swallowed nervously. I needed time to think! Class hadn't been the ideal time since I still tried to defeat Near! Some higher forces decided to throw Matt at me, I suppose...

He had his gloved hands stuffed in his pockets, waiting for me to finish talking, probably. The bruise I unfortunately gave him had darkened and I didn't quite want to look him in the face at the moment. My throat dried no matter how many times I attempted to remedy it.

"Umm..." I tried to talk again, not wanting to seem ignorant. I diverted my gaze from Matt, a sensation bubbling in my stomach. I clenched my fist as I cursed not being able to confront him at all. From my lowered head, I could see Matt's boots. If I wanted to push words from my mouth I'd need to make eye contact, but I just couldn't do it. There were crucial things I hadn't sorted out with him yet, but I froze up and--

"Bye."

I snapped out of my depressing train of thought to see Matt turn his back and take a couple steps. I didn't want him to leave but could I say something to stop him? I didn't find it hard to believe if Matt thought I was silent for too long. I struggled to speak past the blockage in my throat, breathing hard. Don't leave Matt, don't leave me here...

"...H-Hey, Matt!"

He glanced back at me. I felt relieved because he heard my pitiful squeak, but now what?

"Hmm?" Matt pivoted back towards me.

"I..." I swallowed again in hopes it would gather my confidence. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For everything."

That simple statement took a lot out of me, my heart pounding harshly in my chest. Tiny lines of blood trickled from my reopened scabs on my palms. I wished that Matt wouldn't notice that; it would just add unnecessary awkwardness to this whole ordeal. It was hard enough to glance in his general direction.

He stepped close to me, apple green eyes boring a hole in my exposed figure. I could barely expect an answer from him, adrenaline pumping through my veins. It took a bunch of grit just to spit out my apology, even more to not flee the scene!

Matt's stare always unsettled me since the day we met. He always looks _through_ me and not _at_ me. In close areas it was definitely worse. Even now the pulse thudded loudly in my body, which didn't help me in the least.

"Fine."

I blinked. Matt forgave me that easily? "I mean... there are no hard feelings?"

He shook his head. "No."

That felt resolved too quickly for my buildup of courage just to say my apology and determination to remain, but I supposed I'd have to deal with it. "Hey... the other day, why didn't you wake me?" I thought it best to get the insecurities out of the way. Maybe I could look Matt in the face fully after they were swatted out of the air.

"Tried," He replied with a dismissive wave.

"Oh. Umm..." I batted at the anxiety still flitting in my system like fluttering butterflies. "Just... just so you know, I-I didn't mean to punch you. I'm not mad at _you_. I told you about my rivalry with Near, didn't I?"

"Maybe."

"You see... I _hate_ Near. I dislike him more than anyone. You just reminded me of him with your demeanor and..." I sighed. "I just snapped. I _really_ regret doing that... I don't blame you if you hold a grudge against me."

"No grudge."

"That's a relief." I managed a small smile. Contrasting my pleasant expression my mind thought this: if it was a great alleviation, then why did I sense doom lurking over me? I pushed it to the side of my mind and grinned wider despite me not feeling my best quite yet. "So... what do you want to do now that classes are over? Mariokart was pretty fun that time."

Matt hesitated before giving me a response. I assumed he was either in thought about our next activity or what had sadly occurred between us. Finally, he replied "Bad time, but back off."

If I had been daydreaming, those last two words would've seized baseball bats and sent me back to Earth in a home run. I felt like I was drifting in a sea of nothingness, shock destroying any sensations in my soul. My hand silently glided to my chest. Did I hear that correctly?

"Matt... _what_ did you just say?"

The words expanded and filled the vast, empty hallway. They sounded too loud for my ears and my mind to comprehend. I couldn't understand what just happened, my grasp of reality slipping on ice. Any other noise thudded on a deaf young man.

"Back off," Matt--my hopefully friend--repeated as if he hadn't just wrenched a knife in my heart. At occasions like these, his lack of emotion reared a foul head. It was like he didn't _care_...

"But... I-I thought..." I sputtered like a dying candle, unable to reach for a complete sentence in my numb brain. "Weren't we..."

Matt just shook his head, eyes glazed with indifference as always. He twisted to walk down the hall. Again, I strived to break the freezing spell on my entire being, to shout for Matt to return and question why he was acting this way, but I just couldn't--

No. I don't want to be this hopeless. If I thought I couldn't grab Matt's attention, I was wrong. I _could_ stop him. I stiffened with new resolve wavering. I shattered the dream like feeling and retrieved my voice.

"Matt, tell me the truth." I noticed how serious my tone had become and continued. "Do you even _want_ to be my friend?"

Matt halted walking, back turned to me. Ignoring the distance between us, I still caught his answer. "No."

"Why? Why do this now?" My voice slightly cracked beyond my ability to hide it. "If you didn't want to be my friend in the first place, why lie to me?" I slowly shook my head, still not quite processing the whole ordeal. "Why did you _lie_ to me?"

Matt waited a couple moments before giving me his answer. "Don't know. Not a liar."

All of a sudden my stone facade tumbled into fragments. My desperate side ripped the carpet under my previous tough act. I flung my arms to the side in frustration. "What do you want me to _do_, Matt?" My counter argument shivered in all its fragility but I kept up the tirade, emotions spilling like an overflowing teacup. "You can't even _begin_ to realize how much I need this!" I was sick and tired of crying but here I was, standing in the hall sobbing my eyes out like an idiot in front of Matt again. "I told you I'd kill myself if I was alone again! That was true, Matt! _That was true!_" Tears dripped off my cheeks; I couldn't stop their course. "If... If you're just going to abandon me like this, then I... I... _You're a bastard!_"

I gasped for breath due to my outburst and depression clogging my airways. Tears clung in my eyelashes and my cheeks, splattering on the faded red carpet. I pleaded silently to some divine being that Matt would change his mind, but I knew it wouldn't slide back together so seamlessly. Life wasn't that simple.

All this time, was Matt just stringing me along the ride for the pure hell of it? He was truly despicable if he left me to dry in such a depressing manner! If my worst suspicions held water, then Matt had been wasted on for my effort of befriending him. That chilling thought only caused me to cry harder, rubbing my eyes painfully with my already saturated hands.

I didn't know if Matt had stayed behind or not. I couldn't make out shapes beyond my veil of tears. I just stood there like a total dumbass trying to dehydrate myself, not caring about who saw my prone form. Who would give a damn anyway?

Abruptly, a hand jerked my face to eye level. I halted my crying for a moment to see who had bothered me in my wallow of sorrow.

Matt.

He came back.

I came close to crying out of relief because my emotions were so out of whack but Matt shushed me, his eyes cold as always. "Listen. Want to be my friend?"

I nodded hastily, or at least as far as I could manage with his hand obstructing me.

"Make me," he breathed, sending a shudder down my spine at the closeness of his face. My body steeled up at the proximity without me being aware of it. Oh, not this situation again...

Without leaving an explanation, Matt escaped to his room. It failed to matter to me that he had left me like laundry flapping on the line. I began to pull myself back into order, soaking my shirt sleeves with water. I felt comfort that Matt handed me a chance despite his disinterest in becoming a comrade to me--I would have to be an utter fool not to take it. I was definitely no idiot!

What had he meant by "make me" though? I brushed it aside for now, wanting nothing better than to relax, take a shower, maybe even rest. I felt too emotionally drained to summon energy for much else.

I strolled to my bedroom, a heavy weight rising from my shoulders.


	7. Chapter 6: Poetry

Chapter 6: Poetry

Gamecrazy's Note: I still own nothing!

* * *

I hoped things would run smoothly now that Matt had agreed to me becoming his friend. I didn't appreciate believing that we had been close before when he obviously hadn't thought as such, but I had to deal with it. After all, Matt was the single person left in this orphanage that I could ever wish to befriend. Everyone else was all packed into other cans of comrades.

After a good night's sleep, I still wasn't positive on what Matt meant by "make me." What was he saying? Did I need to present my qualities in a manner so that he would be interested? I thought I had showed him all kinds of sides of myself: content, depressed, desperate, serious, embarrassed, and furious. I was a rainbow of emotions, easy to read and affected by much. I didn't try to contain anything in a small bottle. I might be extreme in expressing how I feel, but usually I kept up a state of level-headedness. I could act superior if I wanted--especially if Near was involved--but I don't believe Matt would care for that side of me. I made some hateful comments with that attitude when I first arrived here and sent a timid girl running away sobbing. I regretted that now and tried to be civil and respectful around others, but I just lost my head around Near. He infuriated me beyond self-control majority of the time.

As for Matt, I supposed I maintained a sense of tranquility and trust when I was in his company. I acted pretty friendly, not wanting any poisonous feelings tainting our odd relationship. What would Matt and I be called to an outsider? If we qualified as friends we were barely there. I think Matt knew more about me than I did him.

Matt... I couldn't browse through his mind like a library. As far as my recollection went, he never smiled, grew annoyed, or even pursed his lips in concentration. I knew Matt was someone always running empty on feeling, but his expression didn't shift from cool as a cucumber in the least. It bugged me slightly. He didn't react at all: punched twice and never showed that it hurt.

I wanted to tunnel deeper in the being of Matt, not just brushing the surface. Mystery may be intriguing but it didn't assist in the path of understanding. Matt burrowed under my skin; it was my turn to do so in his. But how was I to begin my breaching of fortress? Forcing anything didn't bring about the best results. If he didn't want to unearth his past to me I couldn't yank words from his mouth. If I was to bust any chances of friendship, it wouldn't be done on purpose or out of my impatience. In my opinion, that just meant that I didn't really want companionship as much I believed. That would be utterly hypocritical of me, my severe sudden depression before Matt came a testament to my acute feelings of being wanted.

Matt, what do I have to do? I wish you'd tell me something.

* * *

In our Literature class, the teacher assigned for us to write a poem that provoked intelligent thought about the meaning. I mentally sighed at the mention of poetry; I may be the second best orphan here, but I was expected to come up with an idea for a poem due the following day. It wasn't a strong point of mine, conjuring something out of thin air. The teacher stated we could work in pairs if we preferred and of course I went to sit beside Matt in the left corner in the back of the classroom, grabbing my stuff so I could leave without pushing against a gaggle of students headed to lunch.

"Hi Matt," I greeted, withdrawing a piece of paper and pencil to start on my poem. If this was free time, I would have added a bit of friendly conversation, but it was time to work and that needed quiet.

"Hi," Matt responded, already scribbling down lines, seeming disconnected from the world as usual. I envied him briefly for being able to think of something so quickly but I shook off the thought in order to focus. I needed an idea! My eyes snuck a glance at Matt but I hurriedly shoved the thought aside. Me, writing about Matt? That would be too weird! It would remind me of a love poem even if I tried my hardest to not make it as much, and there was no way I was going to read that in front of the whole class! That would be the case if I didn't die of embarrassment beforehand… No, writing about Matt directly was out of the question. I didn't want to bother him by asking for an idea because he seemed so focused in his work, currently erasing a couple words. Hey, I was supposed to be working on a poem, not thinking about Matt!

I tapped my pencil against the sheet of paper, concentrating hard on what I could write. I scoured my brain thoroughly, driving thoughts of Matt out of my head. I couldn't think about him right now because I had schoolwork to do. Finally, a light bulb sparked in my mind and I wrote down the first line, adjusting it as I went along.

The day after tomorrow arrived quicker than I expected, and I sat in my regular seat with my completed poem lying on my desk. I wasn't concerned about the end grade or reading in front of the entire class, but rather a thought about Matt sneaking into my focus and how I might react to that. I didn't exactly write the poem about him, instead settling for how I felt about our friendship in a completely metaphoric manner. Considering how little people paid attention to me--the _real_ me, not just my status in Wammy's House--I doubted anyone would see the hinted feelings in it. I hoped Matt would realize what I was getting across, but I couldn't be definite if he would or not. I just didn't have concrete understanding of what he would do.

I stared at my poem anxiously as if I expected it to suddenly fold into a paper airplane and whoosh out the window. Okay, so I was a little nervous about how Matt would interpret it. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves somewhat, barring doubting thoughts from my train of thought. The teacher called up a girl to read her poem and I gave her my undivided attention to keep myself relaxed and not worrying myself into a mess. I don't think I heard what she said, just caring about thinking nothing.

Once a few other kids were given a chance to recite their works, I wondered if I would be asked to go up to the front soon. To my surprise, the teacher chose Matt next, me glancing out of the corner of my eye despite my best efforts to not think about him until I finished reading aloud. He seemed to be his cool and levelheaded self, surprising me when he caught my glimpse and stared for just a second before he turned back around to continue his movement. I didn't think Matt would look back at me of his own free will... Usually I had to start a conversation for him to do it. Was it a good sign?

"Now, Matt, please read to us your poem and place it in the tray when you're done," the teacher explained simply, standing to the left of her desk to get a better view of how the students carried themselves as they performed in front of a crowd with many eyes staring at them. Matt nodded curtly and held out his poem at a good length, taking a moment to push his goggles to his forehead so he could see clearly. He then began to recite in his passive voice, mentioning like the other orphans had done the title, Dark Side of Winter.

_"Snow coats the world white_

_An unmarred blanket_

_Turning things frozen_

_So unforgiving_

_This street is perfect_

_A postcard picture_

_With its false facade_

_Of warmth and thankful_

_Children could freeze quick_

_Little blocks of ice_

_As chilling cold winds_

_Breeze by without care_

_But is this flawless?_

_A humble hamlet_

_Everyone wears_

_Grins and never frowns_

_Little boys and girls_

_Throw around snowballs_

_Laughing like good cheer_

_Or is it crazy?_

_Pure, fallen snowflakes_

_Cover any filth_

_Boys and girls love it_

_And hate to see dirt_

_No one plays in slush_

_The wet cold biting_

_At tiny fingers_

_Wishing for a blaze_

_Slush, just rainy snow_

_Clogs sewer gutters_

_Dropping into waste_

_And dissolving quick_

_People don't touch slush_

_Dirt mixed certainly_

_As it is not pure_

_Just pretending clean_

_Does snow have feelings?_

_Does it like to play?_

_Does it enjoy fun?_

_Or does it not care?_

_Would dirty slush cry?_

_No one enjoys it_

_Is it too lonely?_

_Does it feel alone?_

_What if somebody_

_Was like dirty snow?_

_Do they cry at night?_

_Because no one loves?_

_Not an ounce caring_

_Too despairing, right?_

_Remove the dirt snow_

_It might feel loved once_

_No one likes the filth_

_Backing away mad_

_Everyone loves_

_To be sanitized_

_Would you be dirty_

_Just to save something?_

_To brighten a life_

_That no one has loved?"_

Some appreciative claps followed the final word but most of the class remained silent, including me. I didn't know if they were stunned by the excellent poem or just didn't care. I took another look at my own writing. It seemed so shallow compared to the deep composition Matt wrote... He placed Dark Side of Winter into the tray and headed back to his seat without another noise, not looking at me this time.

Matt's poem... It was nothing short of astounding. Did he write in private or something? I hadn't expected a thing so powerful from him. I wasn't belittling Matt in any way, but I just didn't think he had it in him to write a moving poem, what with his constant emotionless demeanor. Maybe I felt a pang of inferiority in the writing area... No, I won't blow my top over something so stupid! I was lucky that he forgave me easily the first time, but who knows what would happen the next? I couldn't bring myself to talk with him ever again if I punched him twice!

Oh no, here I go again... Thinking about Matt when I told myself to stop until I read my poem! Was I bordering on obsession with him? That scared me... Matt was just the last candidate for friendship I craved, that's all! Nothing more! Of course I'd think about him a lot!

...Right?

My out of control train of thought vanished when the teacher called me up next, a boy I didn't know marching back to his seat. Apparently I was too immersed in my speculation to notice the person who went before me. I gulped to regain my composure and snatched my poem off my desk, striding boldly to the front. I just wanted this over with so I could angst later. Maybe angst wasn't the proper word, but I needed time to gather my thoughts and spacing out in class didn't cut it. I positioned my poem in a legible pose so I could see it best, cleared my throat, and began. "The poem's title is More Than Treasure.

_"There was a pirate_

_Who sailed the seven seas_

_Nothing would ever please him more_

_Than treasure to seize_

_One day he came upon a map_

_With its jet black mark_

_The experienced pirate knew better_

_Than to think it a walk in the park_

_He boarded his ship filled with supplies_

_And gathered up his crew_

_And they set off to the island_

_With trouble about to brew_

_Jungles were thick with foliage_

_And snakes lunged with poison bites_

_The pirates pressed on without doubt_

_And their foes fell in fights_

_They finally came upon a hidden chest_

_Excitement brimming in their veins_

_An eager pirate creaked open the lid_

_And at once brought their hearts pain_

_For nothing laid inside the box_

_Completely empty and not full of gold_

_Most of the crew groaned, disappointed_

_But the lead pirate had a tale to be told_

_He turned to his friends with eyes alight_

_And turned his mouth to a broad grin_

_The others thought this gesture to be crazy_

_But he only said, "Fortunately, we found nothing'!"_

Yeah, I felt stupid for writing about pirates when Matt had a thought-provoking poem about winter. I glanced up after a couple claps sounded and linked eyes with Matt. I hid my gasp, thankful that I hadn't looked up from my writing--if I made eye contact with him, then I would've embarrassed myself in some way. That wouldn't fare well to my reputation if I started stammering all because someone stared at me. I turned in my poem, grateful for that task to be over. My mind kept wandering towards Matt and now I was free to think about him as much as I wanted.

I hoped I wasn't obsessed.

* * *

At lunch, I felt very distracted, odd for my usual personality. Matt sat across from me, playing his DS and eating a sandwich, but I just couldn't look in his direction suddenly. It bugged me greatly, barely seeing my pizza. Was I abruptly concerned with the fact that I may be obsessed with Matt? I didn't want to think about our friendship like that! What was I trying to do, smother him? If I tried too hard, would that drive him away? I didn't want Matt to see the ugly side of me! I didn't want him as my possession or center of the world! Other things were important to me!

...Like what? Near was my self-proclaimed rival and the boy I wanted to defeat and L the person I idolized and strived to become one day, but what came first? I focused for the former for five years, but did all of that mean nothing when compared to the two week period I've spent with Matt?

I... I don't know. I just didn't know.

Matt's DS made a sudden burst of music, causing me to jump in surprise. He glanced at me for a couple seconds. "Unusually quiet."

"I have a lot on my mind, that's all," I tried to reassure, but it felt fake to my ears and I didn't know if Matt was even worried.

He saved his game and flicked off the switch, staring in his empty way. I flinched and turned away, my conflicted emotions overriding my body. I knew he'd pick up something off from that, but I couldn't help it.

"Did I do something?" Matt questioned.

I shook my head, still not looking up from the table's surface. "No... I just need to think about something, okay? I don't want you to worry about me..." Wow, I actually told Matt to not care about me, how much of a friendship booster was that?

I saw his head nod by the movement of his shadow and I heard the plate shift so he could start eating.

Why did something always come up so I couldn't face Matt? Couldn't things be simple for once?


	8. Chapter 7: Leaves

Chapter 7: Leaves

I spent the night lying awake in my bed, covers halfway kicked off from my outstretched body. I had no idea if I really was obsessed with Matt or if it was just my mind was playing tricks on me. If this whole deal turned out to be killer infatuation, I hadn't a clue as to how I'd deal with it. I didn't know if I could tell Matt or not, much less how he would accept it.

Why in the hell was I worrying about something I didn't know was even true? I know this was a crucial matter, but I was being pessimistic about the whole thing! How was I to realize the border between insanity and just a yearning for friendship? I had a difficult time figuring out how I felt on important things. Hey, I spent five years in Wammy's House before I realized I was all alone!

I forced away my depressing thoughts and turned, trying to sleep.

* * *

When the season turned to fall a couple days, the orphanage attracted plenty of fallen leaves from the many trees surrounding the property. The fields were usually coated with them, the management raking them so kids could play soccer and other sports. We were allowed to assist as well, and it earned us a good mark in the books. After lunch, I looked at Matt the best I could and asked, "Do you want to help rake leaves with me?"

Matt blinked under his orange goggles. "Why?"

"Well..." I fidgeted, the deep part of my mind wondering if I really had unhealthy feelings towards him. I still found no concrete solution to what I felt. I pushed it away with all of my might. I wanted to act normal around Matt for once! "It's something to do and the caretakers will appreciate our help."

My red-haired companion appeared to think for a moment. "Okay."

"Come on, let's--" I cut myself off when I realized I had seized Matt's hand. "Uh, sorry..." I turned away, hoping I wasn't blushing.

Why did I do that? I mentally berated myself at doing such a stupid thing. I couldn't read Matt's mind, leaving me with no idea how he had taken my inappropriate gesture. "L-Let's go..." I mumbled, in a hurry to busy my mind so I wouldn't dwell over embarrassing moments.

I heard Matt's footfalls beside me, my eyes staring at the worn red carpet as if I could burn a hole through it with my gaze. I couldn't look at his face right now. "Like I said... Sorry..." I muttered, not sure if Matt would hear me.

"Accepted." His one word response told me nothing deep, but I felt a little better. At least he wasn't angry at me. Then again, _could_ he be angry?

I couldn't help inhaling the crisp autumn air once the two of us stepped outside. Fall was my favorite season. It was nice and cool, not overwhelmingly scorching or freezing enough to snow. I was brought back to earth when Matt tapped me on the shoulder hesitantly, earning a startled cry from me. "Why did you do that?"

"Raking," Matt responded, pointing to a shed with a man keeping watch in the doorway.

"I know, but can I enjoy my favorite time of the year?" I accused with good humor, taken aback by how normal I sounded now. Did Matt's apology help that much or was I just being carefree at the moment? I shrugged off the sudden personality chance and headed across the field with my friend padding along behind me. While we were walking, I glanced at Matt for a moment. "Are you cold?"

"No. You have the jacket."

True, I had worn a lightweight red jacket outside just in case I became too chilled. "Never mind then. Let's get those rakes."

The man guarding the shed handed me two rakes and scribbled our names inside a book to show we had done the extra work. I passed a tool to Matt. "Want to start on this side of the field? There's less commotion over here." Even in the current weather, other orphans kicked around a soccer ball on a section of cleared grass. I wondered if they were that obsessed with sports.

Matt only shrugged, probably not caring where we began. We ended up in the center of the field with the beginnings of a leaf pile in between us as we raked towards the perimeter. As we toiled, I still managed to create small talk with Matt, glad for not having to look at him directly. I could talk without pausing or stuttering—that was good enough for me at the moment. "What's your favorite season?"

"Don't know," the gamer replied in a monotone as always.

"Have you ever thought about it?" I questioned, curious.

"No."

"Why not?"

I heard Matt stop moving by the cease of rustling leaves. "Thought about other things."

"Really? What did you think about, then?" I was tempted to look over, but I kept raking because I didn't know if I would embarrass myself or not.

"Stuff." Matt didn't go into detail. Did his voice go softer or was I just imagining things?

I opened my mouth to ask if anything was wrong, but I didn't have the chance once a boy shouted, "Look out!" and Matt tumbled back into the medium-sized pile of leaves, a flying soccer ball the culprit of the abrupt event. I gasped in shock and dropped my rake, moving closer to the evidence of our work. "Matt, are you okay?"

Matt gave his head a shake but otherwise didn't show if it had hurt him any. "Fine." He raised his right arm, me noticing that I could see his pale hand instead of a black glove like always. Matt shifted to search the pile for his missing item, but not before I saw something that nearly knocked me off my feet, my inhaling of breath sounding like a hiss.

I didn't have personal experience, thank God, but I knew one when I saw one: a scar from cutting.

If what I had seen of Matt's personality was true, then I couldn't see him with a knife and striped shirt sleeve rolled up, bending over the sink as he lowered the instrument. It didn't comprehend in my understanding of him. The Matt I knew had the emotional range of a teaspoon, not someone I could visualize crying as he realized his life sucked that bad.

"Matt..." It was as if winter air had arrived early to freeze my lungs, me scarcely believing what I had just seen. "Why... Why would you do _that_?"

Matt glanced up at me, picking a leaf off his glove. He stared at me for a few seconds before saying, "Oh." He got to his feet, took a couple steps closer to me, and yanked his sleeve down. I couldn't suppress my gasp when I laid eyes on four consecutive scars, each about a centimeter apart.

"But... _why_?" I sputtered. I felt like Matt had told me to back off yet again, my mind not quite processing the disturbing revelation.

Matt lifted his goggles from his eyes to gaze at me with no obstructions. "I wondered if I would have to tell you." His verdant orbs never failed to make me uncomfortable it all of their void-like resemblance. "You wanted to know more about me, didn't you?"

I numbly nodded, gulping for what he might unearth to me. Some foreign part of my soul cheered that I had finally broken his shell, but this seemed like no rejoicing matter. "…I'm ready."

Matt pulled down his sleeve and replaced his glove, shielding those horrifying scars from my sight. He surveyed the area for a handful of seconds. "This is the fourth time in my life I've been outside." His jade eyes seem to look upon a past time instead of me. "My first memory was the first time outdoors, riding in a police car with no idea why I was there. I was only three then, no real understanding of the world. Maybe that's why I don't miss my parents, all because I didn't comprehend 'death' or 'accident.' I couldn't tell you what they were like even today."

Matt paused his uprooting of secrets to sit down on the ground, me following suit. I knew this must be difficult for him despite him always wearing a blank mask. I had to listen because this was what I wanted, a chance to finally understand.

"The police officer mentioned something about my parents dying in a car accident on their way back home. He also said I was lucky to have been left with a babysitter because the car was burned to a crisp. I listened but I didn't know these terms." Matt seemed to snap out of reminiscing long enough to give me a serious stare. "Do you think it's a bad thing, to not be able to mourn the loss of your parents? Back then it made sense because I was so new to the world, but what about now? Is it natural for me to never wonder what they were like, to only have the name they gave me as a reminder they even existed? What do you think?"

I couldn't really be sympathetic to his question. My parents died five years ago, not as long as Matt's had--I felt terrible for not knowing how old he was. "I... I don't really know, Matt. I don't think about my parents all of the time either, but I don't think you're wrong in not missing someone you barely knew."

Matt only nodded. "I guess. The policeman took me to my only living relative's house, my grandmother's. She acted cheerful enough signing the legal papers, but even at that tender age, I could tell that things would never be happy. My grandmother taught me how to read and all of that basic knowledge, cooked me meals, and bought what little I wanted on the shopping list, but that's all she really did for me. She always mumbled something to herself while she did chores as if I wasn't sitting the next room over." He turned to me again. "Do you know what it was?"

I shook my head, almost scared to find out what his grandmother said.

"'Why did they have to die? I don't want to take care of this kid,'" Matt repeated from his memory.

My eyes widened. "How could she _say_ that about her grandson?" I whispered. How terrible... I wouldn't be able to bear it if I was shunned from my own blood.

Matt shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she didn't want to raise more children. My grandmother never spent time with me either, working on the weekdays and going out with friends and church on the weekends. She left me to my own devices in that big house, just a little boy wandering in a place far too big from him. She always locked the door and even the windows. I was too small to get ideas on breaking out so I never tried it. My only company was the computer, TV, books, and the refrigerator if I wanted something to eat. When I got older, my grandmother bought me video game systems, always shooting me critical eyes as she set it up on the TV. I think she hated me and only fed me so I wouldn't starve and stink up her house."

"I'm sorry..." I clasped Matt's shoulder, him not resisting my gesture. If he was a more emotional person, I would have seen pain or even tears in those eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Matt dismissed. "I was young. I didn't know why my grandmother never spoke to me at dinner or answered my questions as if I was being an annoyance. Maybe she thought I would vanish if she ignored me enough. I lived all alone for months, lounging on the couch and watching TV shows. One day, I just snapped and broke down, crying as if the world would end if I stopped. I felt so terrible for reasons I could barely understand, but my grandmother shouted at me to not bother her when I tried to talk to her about it when she came home. I was so shocked my tears halted, like she had just slapped me as hard as she could. I guess that was when I really started to become the guy you know today: passive, empty, apathetic, quiet, blunt. It was like I realized she didn't want me for the first time in my short life. Back then, it felt like I was beginning to see clearly."

I squeezed Matt's shoulder, fighting back the urge to embrace him, to show him that somebody _did_ want him. My heart panged for him--how long had he kept this bottled?

"I can't believe I was shut up in that house for twelve years. Time meant nothing to me. It just trickled by, not noticing if I took note of it or not. I gazed out the window once, watching a group of kids kicking a ball across the street. I remember placing my hand and forehead on the glass, wishing I could join them, but my thoughts were cut off when my grandmother pulled up in the driveway. I think I grew out of companionship, not wanting or caring for anyone to be next to me as I drifted through the years. I grew out of everything back then like old clothes. I just existed, not having a goal in mind. Why did other kids get to play when I was trapped inside a house that rejected me?"

I didn't want to break the mood by speaking, just leaving my hand on Matt's shoulder to show him that I was here for him.

He continued his story after a couple minutes of us sitting in the brisk autumn air, the orphans' cries of happiness echoing across the field like the kids Matt had watched out of the window. "When I turned fifteen, I guess that was when my thoughts turned dark. My video games were encrypted in microchips, and it didn't matter if I completed them or not. None of the characters said thank you to me if I led them on their quest to save the world. My books were already concluded, words not giving me a word of gratitude for going on that adventure. The TV programs were already recorded, the actors not caring if I watched to see what would occur. Every activity I did never needed me. The sun and moon didn't rise and set because I told them to do it. The clock's hands didn't count on me to make them move. My grandmother's life wanted to forget I was included. Maybe that was the around the time I cut myself, just that once."

I breathed in sharply, not quite aware of my surroundings. I only paid attention to the person I still touched.

Matt kept up his life story in a robotic voice as always. "All of a sudden, things started to jump out at me: all of those knives in the drawer, the rat poison under the sink, the shotgun in the closet, the baseball bat in the attic, the medication in the cabinet. I had a hundred ways to kill myself within arm's reach and I hadn't noticed them. I pondered taking my own life several times. I wasn't going anyone a bit of good, was I? Eventually, my thoughts drove me to the bathroom with a knife. I rolled up my sleeve and bent over the sink, but I hesitated in trying. I didn't have a life to run away from, did I? Why was I trying to escape it? I decided I was just curious to see if I could feel something in my stone heart and sliced my arm. I stared at the blood dripping from my shallow cut as if I had never seen it before, but I didn't feel a bit of the release all kinds of characters stressed. I slashed three more times but nothing happened. I bandaged up my self-inflicted lacerations and vowed to never do it again, considering how the calmness or control didn't flood my senses. I cleaned up the blood and returned the knife, feeling like I finally had some mission in life." He turned his eyes to me again. "Ready to hear the rest?"

I nodded--what else could I do? Matt was finally opening up to me, was I going to disgrace this chance? He trusted me with something that had plagued him all of his life, how heartless would I have to be to say no?

Matt thought for a second before spilling. "Sometimes, I wonder why I bothered to keep existing after that incident. My life never changed, always the constant cycle of waking and wasting away until bedtime. One day, my grandmother went out with her friends and I was at home as usual. I didn't expect a police officer to walk inside the house and ask me if I was related to my grandmother. I said yes, and he told me that she had died of a heart attack. I just said, 'oh,' and he asked if I had any other relatives. I guess it's pretty predictable from there."

I was silent for a moment, bearing the burden of Matt's deepest secrets. I understood why he acted the way he did now, but I hadn't expected something this dark from him. I had no idea what I was supposed to assume. "Matt… I-I'm sorry."

It felt stupid that it was all I could say. I wanted to say more, but the words just didn't come to my mind. Matt turned to stare at me again. "That's the most I've ever said at once. I didn't know I could do it. I've never had someone civil to talk to for forever."

"I… I want to say something else, but I-I don't know…" I stammered, feeling idiotic. "I want to offer comfort, but… I never have been good at it."

"That's okay. You listened to me." Matt paused. "…Thanks."

"Y-You're welcome."

I wish I could have said something more, just to make it more memorable.


End file.
